


Aftermath

by arcadenemesis, SheithFixitZine



Series: Written in the Stars - a Sheith Fixit Zine [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: And Shiro realises the depth of what he feels for Keith, Fix-It, Hurt Keith (Voltron), Hurt/Comfort, Injury Recovery, M/M, Pining Shiro (Voltron), Post-Season/Series 07, Shiro and Keith finally talk about Naxzela and Kuron
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-25
Updated: 2020-09-25
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:55:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26646361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arcadenemesis/pseuds/arcadenemesis, https://archiveofourown.org/users/SheithFixitZine/pseuds/SheithFixitZine
Summary: He chances a look at Keith from the corner of his eye. Face turned up to the cosmos, he seems luminescent beside him, but Shiro is struck by the feeling that he would still be ethereal even in the harshest light. He holds himself with so much more certainty than before, but he's still humble, still selfless, still kind. Perfect, in his imperfect way. The clone saw this first, but now Shiro can observe it himself. And now he sees, Shiro isn't sure he can ever look away.It's a new truth, one he can't escape: he's in love with his best friend.Shiro finds Keith after his brush with death, and uncovers truths about Naxzela, Kuron and the secrets he's kept hidden from himself.
Relationships: Keith/Shiro (Voltron)
Series: Written in the Stars - a Sheith Fixit Zine [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1939831
Comments: 8
Kudos: 106





	Aftermath

It feels like the universe has been rewritten when Shiro wakes. Like his circuits have been recalibrated and systems reset. He can't put a finger on it, but he half expects to look up and see the stars all out of alignment above him. 

_A nightmare, then_ , he concludes.

He doesn't try to remember it. 

Still, it's hard to go back to sleep with such an unfounded sense of dread settled like a stone in his belly. He rolls onto his side, blinking blearily at his alarm clock. 4:04 AM. Too soon to stir. Far too late to sleep again. 

Maybe it's the thought of _him_ that sets the restless static in his skin. Of all the conversations he's left unsaid between them. It's not entirely his fault—saving their home from extinction runs a little higher on the priority list than personal catharsis—but that's done now, punctuated by a deep impact between Earth and Lion that Shiro still feels in his bones. 

Shiro isn't sure how many nights he spent in that hospital chair, resorting to bargaining and pleas for lashes to do more than simply flutter in dreams. 

_We'll talk about it_ , he had promised them both. _The clone, the fight, what was said...everything._

Keith has long since awoken from his eerie slumber. Now Shiro is starting to wonder whether he fears the shape of those promised words. He's happy to lay the blame for his absence in the weeks since on Garrison responsibilities and navigating the challenges of an intergalactic multicultural melting pot that bubbles in Plaht City. But his steadfast courage in all things has to end somewhere, and Shiro thinks maybe it's with this. 

Abandoning any attempt for another hour of rest, Shiro hauls himself up with a sigh, feeling the dull, still unfamiliar buzz settle in his veins as his arm hums to life beside him. He doesn't linger, pulling on his uniform in a mindless way and scrubbing at his hair until it looks halfway presentable. His dreams of wayward constellations must still plague him, because his feet take him to the observatory without thought. 

It's quiet at this time of the morning, but he soon finds he's not alone. At the edge of the observation deck, staring up at the stars, is a figure he would recognise anywhere, even in a new red Garrison uniform that suits him unfairly well.

Keith hasn't noticed him yet, and Shiro feels loathe to interrupt him. Still, his name spills from his lips before he can stop it.

“Keith...” 

He doesn't startle, but he turns quickly at his voice, as if he hadn't heard him arrive. Shiro can see the hint of the scar on his cheek, and it feels like a scar on his own heart. Despite the past, despite the pain, despite everything he's ever put him through, Keith still smiles easy in the pale light. 

“Oh. Hey, Shiro.”

It pulls at that scar tissue in his chest.

“Hey,” he returns, and the word comes out uncertain. It's now or never. “...Can we talk?”

“Yeah, of course.”

Shiro sees concern flit across Keith's face, but to his credit, he doesn't seem to panic. It speaks volumes to how much he's grown since Shiro first met him. By comparison, Shiro thinks he might be regressing, feeling his stomach tying up in knots.

“Thank you, I—”

But he hasn't figured out the words yet, and they don't come to him as easily as he had hoped when he first opened his mouth. That concern on Keith's face multiplies to worry. 

“...Shiro? What's wrong?”

Shiro can't look him in the eye. Not when his voice comes out so soft and full of patience. His feet steer him a little closer on instinct. 

“Keith, I...” He swallows down the fear in his throat. “I am _so_ sorry.”

“For wha—”

Shiro doesn't mean to cut him off, but it's automatic to reach up and touch the mark on his cheek. For a moment, he thinks he's glad it's on this side, so it's easy to run a human thumb over its clean edges, but then he catches himself and feels ill all over again. Keith speaks first though, turning his face ever so slightly into the touch.

“Shiro, it wasn't your fault.”

“But I still hurt you, Keith,” he insists, the words ripping through his throat and leaving copper on his tongue. “I almost— My clone almost—”

Keith doesn't let him finish. “But he _didn't,_ ” he says emphatically, pinning him under a steady gaze. “And I know you never would.”

Is that such a certainty though? This is still the same body that tried to kill him. Still the same lips that dripped venom to maim in other ways.

“Shiro...” Keith's quiet voice is a centring force, soothing the pull on his heart. “I know you'd never hurt me.”

Before he can second guess himself, Shiro finds his arms around Keith in an instant, pulling them chest to chest, hooking his chin over his shoulder. It's been so long since they've been like this. Months feel like lifetimes. He's been scared to touch Keith since he woke in this body with an impostor's memories. But the contact is like a balm, and it takes everything he has not to sag into it. “I didn't want to,” he promises, “and I hope I never do again.”

“I know,” comes the immediate, _confident_ response. “Besides—” Shiro can hear the smile in his voice, “—now we match.”

It's a little macabre, but then again they both are, and Shiro huffs a quiet laugh before he can stop himself.

“Yeah, I guess we do.”

Keith doesn't make an attempt to move, and so selfishly Shiro holds on, hiding his face for a moment longer. It's easier this way. Without his face before him, Shiro can gather his thoughts and his courage to continue. Keith's arms tighten fractionally at his ribs, squeezing a breath from him that bleeds out the tension in his body. Shiro's voice is quiet when he gathers enough of himself to speak again.

“The things he said to you...”

“It's fine,” Keith assures quickly. “You don't have to—”

“Keith, please,” he interrupts, pulling back with hands on his shoulders. “Let me say this. It's important.”

Keith goes a little tense, the way he does when he's ready to flee. But for Shiro, he releases it with a sigh and nods, slipping out of his grasp to lean against the window and stare out at the night sky. It doesn't matter that they've seen galaxies far beyond theirs, Shiro thinks, Keith is forever looking upward. He hopes that never changes. 

“It's...not all there,” Shiro admits, pressing a metal hand to the glass. His memory is like a corrupt file, offering only glimpses between flares and static, and it worries him what horrors he _hasn't_ seen. “But I remember what he said about your parents. About _you._ ” He sees Keith's jaw tighten for just a second. “Those words aren't true. I would _never_ abandon you. And the things that happened to you when you were young...they weren't your fault. Your parents would have moved entire universes for you. Krolia still would.”

Keith turns his face to him, and tells him something unexpected.

“I'm glad he said it.” Shiro is left gaping, and Keith continues before he can recover. “It was kind of the final catalyst that told me it really wasn't you in there.”

It's like a vice around his chest, making it hard to draw the breath to speak. “Then...why didn't you end it? He could have killed you.”

Shiro wonders if the colour in Keith's cheeks is a trick of the light when he folds his arms and looks out to the night's sky again.

“Because I knew if there was the smallest chance I could save you by saving him, I wasn't going to let that go. You said you'd never give up on me. I guess I forgot to tell you the same.”

Shiro doesn't know what to say to that, watching Keith's throat bob. It's more than simple faith—Keith had walked a fraying tightrope with nothing but certain Hell below just to save him. He traversed the literal ends of the universe to bring him back. Shiro isn't sure how he is ever supposed to repay that kind of debt. 

In the silence between them, Keith clears his throat awkwardly. “Do you remember anything else?”

Shiro closes his eyes for a moment, gathering himself before he answers. “Flashes... Lots of impact, lots of pain... Feeling my arm change is still pretty vivid.” There’s more he wants to say, about words spoken at the climax, but it sticks in his throat. Keith lets out a quiet breath and Shiro can't help but feel a rush of guilt. “I have his older memories,” he tells him instead, looking out the window too. “I know your time with the Blades was invaluable, but I just... I wish the team had handled it better. Actually, I wish he had handled a _lot_ of things better.” Absently, he traces the constellations he knows like the back of his human hand on the glass, a welcome distraction from the sorrow he feels when reflecting on his time away. “It's odd. I don't blame him—none of it's his fault, really—but I wish I could just go back and shake him. Like keeping Voltron on Naxzela? He could have killed the whole team that day.”

“I wouldn't have let that happen,” Keith says suddenly, and it brings a pained smile to Shiro's face.

“Keith, there isn't much you could ha—”

“I had a plan. I—” But he seems to think better of it, and his mouth snaps shut with a click of teeth. Shiro's skin crawls with foreboding.

“Keith?” he prompts, but Keith only angles his body away. Shiro catches his shoulder to make him face him. “Keith, what plan?”

“It doesn't matter.”

“Apparently it does.”

Keith frowns. “I just...figured if you were stuck there, the best thing to do would be to destroy Haggar's cannon before she could fire it on Naxzela. Stop the source, you know?”

“And how? According to Coran, until Lotor showed up, there was no way to penetrate the carrier's shield.”

Keith shrugs under his hands, but still doesn't meet his eyes. It dawns on Shiro in the most awful way. 

“...You were going to try to create an explosion big enough to deactivate the shield,” he says quietly, horrified. “Keith...were you going to crash your ship?”

Keith tries again. “It doesn't ma—”

“Like hell it doesn't matter!” Shiro half-snarls, fingers pressed hard into skin and sinew. Keith goes limp under it, eyes cast to the ground. “Are you telling me that I— that we nearly lost you, and never even realised?”

Keith doesn't answer.

“How close?” Shiro demands in the silence. “How close did you come?”

A shaky exhale trembles between them. 

“Pretty close,” Keith answers honestly, and Shiro squeezes again.

“Did you talk to anyone about it?” he asks, desperate, because no one should volunteer to confront their mortality so viscerally and float in the aftermath alone.

“...No.”

It turns his scars into fractures. 

“You should,” Shiro insists, voice hushed and soft for this fragile moment between them. “...I'll always listen, you know that, right?”

Keith gives a small nod. “Yeah…” Then, finally, he looks up again to meet Shiro's worried gaze. “Another time,” he promises, “when this is all done and I'm ready.”

It's not what Shiro wants to hear, but he understands. Talking about death and danger is hard when they're still not out of the woods yet. Shiro knows this—and he has already died once in this war. “When you're ready,” he confirms, releasing him gently.

Keith smiles up at him, and curiously it makes the scar on his heart throb. Here, shimmering with tears unshed, he has starlight in his eyes. Truly, he is hauntingly beautiful with the glow of distant galaxies painting his skin. And the way he ducks his chin so shyly when Shiro tucks a rogue strand of hair behind his ear is terribly endearing.

_Oh…_

Shiro retracts as quickly as he can without making the gesture seem anything but deliberate. He hopes the heat in his skin doesn't equate to a flush in his cheeks as he turns back to the window, away from Keith's face. It flares a distant memory—of Keith stepping off an Altean ship with longer limbs and longer hair. Of stuttered words and a rapid heart. Shiro reaches up to touch his chest with as much nonchalance as he can muster. It pounds now too. 

The clone felt this once before; this startling moment of realisation that Keith wasn't the same person he was when he left Earth. That _he_ wasn't the same either—that somewhere along the way, they had both changed and Shiro's feelings had evolved too. 

His mind is an echo chamber.

 _I love you._ His heart skips under his fingers. But then he blinks. _Shiro, you're my brother. I love you._

Why does that make him ache? 

_Because you love him too._ This time, it's his own voice he hears, forlorn. _But it's not the same. You're_ in _love with him._

It stuns him. Is this really how he feels, or is it just a relic left over from the clone? Can he trust a thought that may just be the ghost of a soul that once inhabited this shell? Or is he still a puppet, strings entangled with another who had never known he was a fraud? He chances a look at Keith from the corner of his eye. Face turned up to the cosmos, he seems luminescent beside him, but Shiro is struck by the feeling that he would still be ethereal even in the harshest light. He holds himself with so much more certainty than before, but he's still humble, still selfless, still kind. Perfect, in his imperfect way. The clone saw this first, but now Shiro can observe it himself. And now he sees, Shiro isn't sure he can ever look away. 

It's a new truth, one he can't escape: he's in love with his best friend.

Keith’s lashes flutter then, and he stumbles minutely on the spot. Shiro snaps out of his reverie with a start, quickly wrapping an arm around his waist. Keith blinks up to him in surprise, but Shiro can see the way his eyes struggle to refocus on his face for a fraction of a moment.

“You're still recovering,” Shiro tells him gently. “Have you slept at all tonight?”

Keith gives a weary smile. “...I've been struggling to slip into a routine since waking from the crash. Hey—don't look so concerned. I feel fine, really.”

Shiro doesn't feel convinced. “I should take you back,” he says, but Keith refutes him with a shake of his head. 

“Not yet,” Keith murmurs, stopping any argument in its tracks when he rests his head on Shiro’s shoulder. “Just a little while longer.”

Shiro can't remember how to say no to him. It's like the entire Earth has shifted under his feet—perhaps to bring him to the place he's meant to be. He glances up, but the stars are all still in perfect alignment above them. He holds on a little tighter. 

“Okay,” he says quietly, resting a cheek against his hair. “A little while longer, then.”

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/copilotsheith/status/1309569569946660864?s=19)!
> 
> I will link part 2 "Sideways" by [Eugyne](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AreteNike/pseuds/eugyne) when it is made available to continue this story!


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